


Blast of Genius

by Mertiya



Series: Odds//Ends [1]
Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut, Sort of PWP, Tsundere, but a little teeny bit of plot ish, egregious numbers of stupid puns, massive amounts of tsun, not quite hate-sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2179359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ral Zarek's favorite thing to do is irritate the Living Guildpact.  Jace finally decides that enough is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blast of Genius

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I love this ship so much. Is it the terrible puns? The copious amounts of tsun? The fact that Ral Zarek is far too handsome for an annoying ass of a planeswalker? (Sorry, that was clearly the Jace in me talking.) I just don't know. Enjoy :)

            There was a knock on Jace’s door.  The mind mage grimly lay down his pen and looked up.  “Come in,” he called out, then sighed heavily as the door immediately slammed open to reveal the person he wanted to see least in the world.

            “Ah, Living Guildpact,” said Ral Zarek, sweeping and managing to somehow look supremely dignified despite the smoke wafting gently up from his hair. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but it’s about one of my experiments.  Everything was going quite well and then, I’m sorry to say, some members of the dear Selesnyan Conclave simply _barged_ into my workspace.”

            Jace, with difficulty, refrained from introducing his head to his desk with extreme force.  This was the third time this week.  Four days ago, Ral had appeared to say that the Azorius were attempting to perform a safety inspection of his lab, but he felt that it was “dangerous” for them to set foot in it. The end result had been that Jace had been forced to oversee the inspection while Lavinia dealt with as much of his business as she could.  He’d still ended up backed up enough that he didn’t get to sleep until well past midnight. Unfortunate, considering that Ral had woken him at five in the morning.

            Then, two days later, an extremely irate Teysa Karlov had stormed into his office to say that Zarek had absconded with two of her favorite thrulls, whose names, as far as Jace could gather, were both something that sounded like “phlegm”. Upon being confronted with these charges, the other planeswalker looked deeply wounded and said that he had merely borrowed them to test the efficacy of one of his new machines, and, even then, only after they had trespassed in Nivix.

            “They were there to take a message to the Firemind,” Teysa said, having turned quickly from hot anger to icy politeness, which made Jace worry more than before.  Somehow, he managed to finesse that one without relations between the Syndicate and the League deteriorating any further.  Teysa, only vaguely mollified, had gone off with Tajic of the Boros, and Zarek had hung around for the rest of the afternoon trying to “help out” to “make up for the trouble he had caused.”  It had been three in the morning before Jace had gotten to sleep _that_ night.

            And, now, here _he_ was again. “Your workspace?” Jace asked with brittle placidity. 

            “Yes, I’ve been working on a defensive project that involves the application of electricity to certain carefully selected cobblestones in a generally unfrequented area of the city.”

            Jace closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  “You mean that you were in the middle of the street, correct? Let me guess. You’ve accidentally electrocuted some poor loxodons, and now Trostani wants your head.”

            “Well, no, I wouldn’t put it in exactly those words. After all, the work I am doing is very important, and those Selesnyans—centaurs, just so you know—trampled all over my equipment.  It’s really quite a mess, you know.”

            “Get out,” Jace said.  “I need a minute.”

            “Oh, very well, if I must,” Zarek replied.  “Shall I tell Niv-Mizzet that you have our best interests at heart? Or that you simply can’t be bothered with guild business today?”

            “Out!” snapped Jace.  “I need a minute to think out a way to deal with the latest mess you’ve created.”

            With a disgruntled air, Zarek stormed out of the office and shut the door behind him.

            Jace sunk his head into his hands and nearly wept.  Lavinia was occupied with a dispute between the Azorius and the Rakdos.  Jace had been so grateful that she was dealing with it that he hadn’t stopped to consider what he would do if Ral showed up.  There wouldn’t be anyone to—

            The door flew open.  “According to my chronometer, it has now been a minute and seven—”

            Jace’s vision went red.  “SHUT UP!” he shouted.  “Just for once, can’t you let me have some time to myself?  Just _stop talking_. _Stop doing anything!_ ”  He spat the words.  After a moment of uncharacteristic silence from the Izzet guildmage, Jace forced himself to look up and risk meeting Zarek’s gaze.

            Guildmage Zarek was on the floor in a heap.

            Jace, his emotions ebbing, stared at his incapacitated antagonist in disbelief. What had happened? His head was aching, almost as much as it had when…oh, no.  He couldn’t have—had he?  Jace scrambled around the desk and fell to his knees beside Zarek’s still form. He put a trembling hand in front of the other’s mouth and was surprisingly relieved to feel a current of warm air. Of course, Zarek’s breath still somehow managed to _feel_ smug.

            With significant trepidation, Jace reached out into Zarek’s mind, and then quickly withdrew. It was a chaotic tumult, the thoughts jumbled and tangled together, as if someone had taken a dozen pieces of separate yarn and knotted them.  Which, Jace thought, was close to what he’d done.

            What was he going to do?  He leaned back and sighed heavily.  If anyone found out that the Living Guildpact had psychically assaulted a high-ranking member of the Izzet League, there would be an uproar.  Not to mention his own guilt.  He either had to fix Zarek, or accept that he was still the same thoughtless, mindwiping villain he’d been when he was working for Tezzeret.

            Jace rubbed his eyes, feeling faintly nauseous and very tired. He glanced around the room. At least there was still a pallet in here.  Lavinia had pointedly left it after the third time she had caught Jace sleeping at his desk. Carefully, Jace moved Zarek’s limp body over to the mattress and began the arduous process of picking up the pieces.

            He was relieved to discover that, though he’d certainly made a mess of Zarek’s head, he didn’t appear to have actually destroyed anything. It was a howling, chaotic mess in the storm mage’s mind, but not too much worse than normal. After an hour of fiddly, meticulous work, he retreated once more.  He’d done enough that Ral should be able to get his own thoughts in order with a minimum of effort.

            Jace returned to his desk and turned to face the pallet. “Ral,” he snapped, faking a grimace.  No response. Jace felt all his relief crumble away from beneath him.  He didn’t know of anything else he could do.  He realized there were angry tears brimming in his eyes, and he slammed his fist into his desk in frustration.  Unfortunately, the desk, like most things, was stronger than Jace, and he ended up sucking on the knuckles in pain.  He glanced back at the figure on the mattress.  Ral’s white-streaked black hair was rumpled, rather winningly, as if a very fashion-conscious breeze had blown through it. One hand rested low on his hip and the other was flung back behind his head.  Jace had certainly not left his patient posed like _that_.

            _What a handsome man_. The thought echoed through Jace’s mind, doing a clumsy imitation of his own mental voice.

            “Zarek,” he growled.  “How long have you been awake?”

            Ral Zarek blinked open sleepy, innocent blue eyes.  “Dear, dear,” he said.  “What happened?  Surely the Living Guildpact didn’t assault a guild member?”

            Jace stomped across the room.  “If I was half crazy from lack of sleep, who might be to blame for that?” he demanded, though his anger was dampened by relief.

            “You haven’t been able to sleep?” Ral echoed, and Jace suddenly felt a strange pang as the other grinned winningly.  “Well, you know, you could have told me.”

            “Told you what?”

            “It’s my devastating good looks, isn’t it?” Ral ran a hand through his hair. “Or is it just my charm?” he continued, leaning towards Jace.  “Or perhaps,” he whispered huskily, “my very presence is… _electrifying_?”

            Jace stared at him.  There was an obvious challenge in those blue eyes.  He almost backed away.  He wouldn’t lose anything, and playing Ral’s game was a dangerous idea. Then the Izzet mage smirked at him.  It was the smug smirk on his stupid smug face that did it.  Toppling forward, Jace smashed their lips together clumsily, grabbing at the back of Ral’s head.

            “I hate you,” he growled between kisses.

            “Oh yes, Living Guildpact,” Ral responded smugly, “hatred is _exactly_ what you’re demonstrating.”  Jace bit him.

            Ral moaned and prodded Jace’s lips questingly with his tongue, pulling him backward onto the mattress.  They wrestled for position, Jace throwing one leg over Ral to anchor himself. As he did, their pelvises slammed together, and Jace gasped with shocked arousal.  He managed to brace himself, however, so, when Ral heaved again, he still didn’t manage to throw Jace off balance. Instead, Ral collapsed backward, letting Jace pin him to the bed.  After a brief moment of wary hesitation, he slammed both of his palms onto Ral’s and kissed him hard, dragging his lips from the corner of Ral’s mouth to his throat and nipping a little for good measure. There was a bang in Jace’s ears like a thunderclap, and a sudden jolt ran through him from each of Ral’s hands. The lightning sizzled down his spine, arching him backward and forcing him to buck forward.  The stink of ozone heavy in his nostrils, Jace nearly climaxed then and there.

            When his sparking mind cleared, he was on his back beneath Ral. The Izzet mage had both hands running down Jace’s chest, and little bright sparks were leaping from his hair and fingertips, sending tiny pleasurable jolts through Jace, who groaned and writhed and reached for Ral’s shirt, half-angry, half-eager. That was it, he thought, time to get his own back.  He slipped into Ral’s mind again, flipping quickly through a series of graphic, sensual images until he came to one that made him smile grimly.

            Ral was pulling open Jace’s clothes, his sparks playing over Jace’s bare skin as Jace let his hands creep up Ral’s legs and across to one of the pieces of metal Ral had belted to his side.  Carefully, he loosened it, keeping Ral from noticing by the simple expedient of reaching into his head and suppressing the sensations.  When he had a firm grasp on it, he quietly slipped the cold metal down Ral’s spine and pressed the button.  A charged mix of red and blue mana surged through both of them this time, and Ral bucked against Jace, his eyes widening. Jace, with a malicious little smirk of his own, magnified the feeling inside Ral’s head, but his control was shaky, and it echoed through his own mind and body as well.  Shaking, he let the thing drop for now and yanked Ral’s clothes off entirely.  The other mage was still stunned and shaking and unable to help.  Jace quickly snatched another image out of Ral’s mind and grinned wickedly as he slid a finger up inside the Izzet mastermind.

            Ral gave a choked cry and fumbled for Jace’s shaft with a trembling hand. He missed twice as Jace crooked the finger inside him and he groaned and ground down against it, but finally he managed to give a few short, sharp tugs.  Jace felt a moan spill from his lips and for a few glorious moments he just abandoned himself to thrusting upward into Ral’s hand.

            Then—he almost flipped to Ral’s mind again, but decided against it. “Do you—have anything slippery?” he gasped, wondering if Ral would even answer, but the lightning mage, muscles twitching in his cheek, just gave a quick nod.  His hands left Jace, who barely restrained a groan of disappointment, and fumbled at the belt that was still pooled on the ground next to them, coming away with a small jar, which he handed to Jace. It took Jace three tries to open it, but eventually he did, to find a sort of slick jelly.  Making a mental note to _not_ ask Ral what this was actually used for, he scooped out a generous amount to coat his fingers, himself, and the rod-like item he had used earlier.

            Ral’s eyes widened.  “Are you going to—” he started, and then broke off as Jace positioned the rod carefully and then slid it into him.  Ral jerked soundlessly, and as Jace pressed the button, he watched Ral’s eyes slide shut and his mouth open, let Ral’s pleasure wash over him as well—but reached out and caught the orgasm before it could occur, holding Ral trembling and tantalized at the edge.  The lightning mage groaned and whimpered.  “H-how are you d-doing that?” he gasped, the words dropping from his lips before he could call them back.

            Jace smirked and, leaning up, whispered in Ral’s ear, “Mind mage, remember?”

            “You bastard,” panted Ral.  “Let me—oh Krokt—let me—” he groaned.

            Jace grinned, kicking off his trousers.  “Put your hands against the wall,” he said, wondering if he was going too far, but Ral complied eagerly, glancing back over his shoulder with eyes dilated with lust.  “You’d better be planning to fuck me,” he managed throatily.  “Because if you leave me like this, Living Guildpact—”

            With that threat hanging in the air, Jace was briefly tempted. But that would be both unnecessarily cruel and rather under the heading of cutting off his own nose to spite his face.  He was also shaking with arousal and desire.

            “Don’t worry,” he murmured as he positioned himself behind Ral. “It would be…too hard…for me to leave you like this.”

            Ral groaned, the noise turning into a whimper as Jace slowly pulled the instrument out of him and then gritted his teeth and took its place. He gasped Ral’s slick warmth enveloped him, gasped and thrust.  He’d meant to go slowly, tease Ral a little more, but it wasn’t going to happen. Ral slapped his palms frantically against the wall, and Jace thrust hard and rapidly.  Eyes sliding shut, he bit down on Ral’s shoulder and drew an eager cry from the other mage. 

            Ral smelled of bottled lightning and sweat, which shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was.  Jace found himself whimpering against Ral, clawing at his thighs, and Ral bucked backwards against him.  All thoughts of getting even faded into the heat of Ral and the sound of his sighs and moans as Jace thrust into him desperately.  He clutched for Ral’s shaft, and, as he did, one of Ral’s hands shot up and slapped down onto his arm.

            Lightning surged.  As the storm swept through Jace, he gave out a choked cry and reached out with his mind, scrabbling for Ral’s.  It felt as if he’d grabbed a thunderstorm with both hands, and a wash of raw turbulence passed across him in a flash, his body stiffening as he climaxed.

            After a timeless moment, he let out his breath slowly and started to pull out of Ral, but the Izzet mage’s grip on his shoulder was like iron.

            “Ral?” Jace said tentatively, then wondered if he should have called him ‘Zarek’. Somehow, though, it didn’t seem reasonable to stand on ceremony when you were inside the other person. Ral exhaled slowly, then slowly let Jace go, so that he was able to slip backward and sit down on the floor, panting.

            Ral gave a low grunt and slid down the wall, then slowly began to gather up his discarded accoutrements.  Jace stared at him, suddenly not quite sure what he was feeling. Ral carefully ran a hand through his hair, then gave Jace a wink and a rather shaky laugh.  “Thanks for an enjoyable time, oh Guildpact,” he said, before pulling himself together and leaving the room.

            It took a long time for Jace to get his mind back on his work.

~

            Ral did not show up for the next several days, and Jace, warring between guilt and relief, made no effort to seek him out.  He didn’t see the other planeswalker again until he was summoned by Niv-Mizzet to a meeting to discuss certain ‘terms and conditions,’ as the Firemind put it.  Mostly, it turned out this meant arguing over where the Izzet were allowed to perform experiments. Jace was several hours into the meeting, feeling faintly harassed, when the door opened to let Ral Zarek in.  He paused, then smiled lazily at Jace, winked, and performed an exaggerated pelvic thrust.

            Jace coughed, losing track of his sentence and his train of thought, but he managed to recover and fortunately Niv-Mizzet chose that point to begin a diatribe again, which was especially fortunate because Ral had plucked that— _device_ —from his side and was fingering it suggestively, complete with obscene facial expressions. Jace heard almost nothing else that Niv-Mizzet said, being entirely caught up in trying to keep his wits about him enough to illuse away the sudden raging erection.  He excused himself as soon as he could and hurried back to his office, where he locked the door and then found himself masturbating only a little furiously.

            He was halfway through when there was a knock at the door. With shaking hands, Jace hastily composed himself and answered it.  Standing outside was Ral Zarek wearing literally not a stitch of clothing and holding a rose between his teeth.  He dropped it into one hand as he spoke. “Ah, Living Guildpact.” His gaze traveled down Jace’s frame slowly, and the mindmage shuddered.  “I see you’ve been expecting me.”  Then he grasped the back of Jace’s collar and pulled him into a heated kiss, from which Jace emerged breathless and dizzy.  Ral pulled his head forward and murmured, “I admit you conquered me last time, Living Guildpact.  I believe I owe you a good time,” to which Jace could only groan as he was shoved backwards into his own office.

            Ral Zarek had found a new way to irritate the life out of the Living Guildpact.  But at least, Jace reflected philosophically as his clothing very quickly made its way to the floor, there was absolutely no chance that _this_ would end in Teysa Karlov complaining at him. 


End file.
